No One Survives Alone
by jackalope21
Summary: "A figure stood behind the Walker ten feet from where Daryl rested, their face shielded from the sun with fabric wrapped around it like men in the desert. They were dirty like him, armed to the teeth and just as they yanked the blade from the back of the Walker's head, they noticed him, alone, injured and unarmed." Rated M for language and so forth. Less censored than the show.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay. I'm going to give this a shot. I like the Walking Dead. I came to it late int he game, but I've already caught up on every episode. lol. So, eventually this will probably be a Daryl/OC, but idk. I hope you guys enjoy this and let me know what you think. I want to do the show and characters justice. :)**

The Walking Dead

Season 2 Episode 5

Daryl struggled with the Walker that hovered over him, snapping and gnashing its disgusting teeth in an attempt to get as much flesh into its mouth as possible. Pain radiated through Daryl's body, ache pulsing with each heartbeat.

His frustration and anger gave him power. Grabbing the walking stick he'd adopted, Daryl raised it high above his head and smashed it into the Walker's face. He beat it bloody and stabbed it one final time before he could relax. Even then the action was premature.

Groaning came from his periphery. The battered young man's attention shifted to another Walker approaching, this one moving faster and crossing the stream without hesitation. He fumbled back, trying to put distance between them to give him the time he needed. Seconds. All he needed was seconds to retaliate.

The Walker approached further, closing in on the man in the sand. Daryl honestly struggled with the thought of having to rip the arrow out of his side, but he didn't have a choice. Gripping the shaft tightly, Daryl began to pull, tugging on the plastic covered in his own blood as hard as he could.

As the feathers began to dig into his body, Daryl dared a glance to the Walker. It was close, too close for comfort, but before he could give the arrow one final yank, the Walker went stiff. The groaning stopped and seconds later the monster toppled face first into the dead tree it'd nearly climbed to get to Daryl.

From his angle, Daryl couldn't see anything behind the Walker, only the knife dug deeply into the back of its head. He heard things though. Heavy feet sloshed through the water and approached. Daryl wanted to rip the arrow out the rest of the way, to arm himself against a possible mugging, but it was too late.

A figure stood behind the Walker, their face shielded from the sun with fabric wrapped around it like men in the desert. They were dirty like him, armed to the teeth and just as they yanked the blade from the back of the Walker's head, they noticed him. Eyes fell to the young man on the ground not fifteen feet away.

Horror stretched the stranger's face. Daryl would have been surprised to see it, but he was too worried about the thought of fighting to care. Everything went still. Both parties were trying to come to terms with what they were seeing, so sudden movement was unexpected.

The stranger suddenly charged for Daryl, leaping over the bits of dead roots at the base of the fall tree and went to his side. Daryl scurried back, ready to swing his crossbow and the stranger took notice.

"Whoa," they said softly, holding up their hands in surrender. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

Daryl narrowed his eyes skeptically. The newcomer could tell he was either a distrusting person or too freaked out to accept help. Either way, they completely understood, sure the mask wasn't helping.

Still holding their hands in the air sans weapon, the stranger began to untie the wrapping around their face. The long scarf came unfolded, gradually revealing the person beneath.

A young woman, barely looking in her mid-twenties, finished unraveling her head. Black hair tumbled down in a long braid, her skin much lighter than he expected to see. Everyone was so sun-kissed and dingy, anything other than that seemed foreign, but her face was protected and fair because of it.

"Let me help you out there, okay?" she said, holding the wrapping in her hand and stepping forward again.

This time, now that he could actually tell the person beneath the mask was indeed a human being; Daryl relaxed, but only marginally while he held his crossbow, the only arrow was wedged through his side. She on the other hand, was well equipped. A machete crossed her back in one direction while a baseball bat crossed it in the other. The knife she'd thrown at the previous Walker was a large buck knife that was missing from the hilt strapped to her thigh and the other holster held a nine millimeter pistol. She had nearly every simple kind of weapon a person could have, but he saw no supplies. That meant a camp and it wasn't likely far away.

"Hold still." She said, drawing Daryl's attention to what she was doing.

He quickly realized she was really close, her hands hovering just above the arrow.

"Don't fuckin' touch me." He hissed under his breath.

Her eyes shot to him. Daryl met her blank stare with his defiant gaze. She seemed less than amused by his reaction.

"Do you want to attract every corpse for miles?"

He glared lightly at her.

"I don't know you."

"Likewise." She answered simply.

He wanted to say something else to her, to snap at the bitch that appeared out of nowhere and presumed to help him, until he realized she had actually saved his life once and he was slowly loosing consciousness again.

A jostle of the arrow in his side made him realize the stranger was already working without his consent. Daryl sucked in a sharp breath and looked to see what she was doing. Instead of ripping it out of his side like he'd tried, she actually began to twist off the head. The initial jolt was her finally getting the threading of the arrowhead to release. Now the task was easy, the hunting tip slipping off easily.

"Now roll a bit to your side." She said kindly, her eyes still on what she was doing.

Daryl did so before he could stop himself. He still wasn't sure what the hell to think. No one in this world randomly helped another person. She should be knocking him out and seeing what he had to steal. She should take his crossbow. But she wasn't. She was helping him. None of it made sense.

Slowly the stranger began to pull the arrow out of Daryl's side from the back. The feathering hadn't made it all the way into the wound, so the task was safe enough, and without the head, the shaft slid effortlessly through the wound. He had to admit it felt better instantly.

"Lift your shirt a bit." She instructed, pulling off the harness she had holding the weapons to her back. He didn't move as she put her weapons to the side.

She didn't really wait for him to do it and instead began to shove his shirt up enough to show her the wound when he hadn't moved. It was bleeding, like she thought, but it was easy enough to stop. Daryl still wasn't sure what to think, even less so when the young woman began to unbutton her shirt and soon pulled it off.

She wasn't done stripping. Setting her shirt on top of her weapons, the young woman began to pull off the black camisole she wore underneath it. Daryl wondered if she realized she was taking off her clothes in front of a man she didn't know, but it didn't stop her from stripping off the black shirt and tending to him in her bra. He raised a brow to the sight. It'd been a little while, longer than he'd admit out loud, since Daryl had seen a young woman almost completely topless. It drew his attention quickly for obvious reasons.

The stranger didn't notice, nor did she care. Instead she rolled the black shirt just enough it would wrap around Daryl's side and cover both holes left in the arrow's wake. She held it in place with one hand before grabbing the scarf that had been around her face. It was long and even though the fabric was in essence a large square, it was easily maneuvered around his body. She tied it off quickly, ensuring it held her black shirt in place and was tight enough not to move and held the fabric over his wound.

"There." She said, tightening the scarf a bit more for good measure. When she was done, she looked back into his face and noticed Daryl hadn't become comfortable yet. He was still staring at her like she was going to kill him the moment he eased up. She smiled warmly to him. "You have a camp or somewhere to get to? Friends that might be waiting for you?"

He was hesitant to say anything and she understood why, truly she did, but he needed further medical help than she could provide and water that wasn't tainted to clean out the wound.

"Yeah." He nodded after a while without speaking. "About two miles that way," he pointed with a tilt of the head. "But I can't go back yet."

"You need that taken care of." She said firmly as she threaded her arms through her first shirt and began to button it once more. "Now come on."

When she was dressed, the stranger stood and slung her weapons onto her back before offering Daryl her hand. He took it and stood with a wince and a groan, but he wasn't going back yet.

"I can't go back." He said, adjusting his short over her bandages.

"Yes, you are."

"No." he snapped, a bit dizzy, but firm in his conviction. "There's a little girl out here. I have to find her."

"Jesus," she breathed, looking horrified at the thought. "Well, you're no good to her like this. You can barely stand and if that gets infected you're screwed. Now let's go."

He cursed her under his breath and wanted to shove her away from him as she looped his arm over her shoulder and forced him to move. But he couldn't. Daryl felt unsteady and he knew deep down that he might get attacked by another Walker before finding Sofia and in the condition he was in, he might not be able to fend them off a second time. So, with the help of a woman he didn't know but had already seen half naked, Daryl began to long walk back to the farm.

It was easier, not easy, but easier to get up the hillside with her help. Everything still hurt though, his body wanting to fall asleep as he was led onto flat ground. The young woman aiding him had slipped his arrow back into the makeshift sheath on the weapon and held it over her shoulder, Daryl laced around the other. He leaned on her more than he'd admit, even with his walking stick.

Eventually, and even after seeing more hallucinations of his brother that he was smart enough not to engage aloud, Daryl and the stranger broke through the tree line. Daryl had pushed her off him half a dozen times and she'd let him walk on his own until he stumbled, then he'd have no choice but to take her help.

At the moment, she was a few feet behind him, picking up the doll he'd dropped when they were approached by a group of men. When she noticed it, the young woman grabbed her gun and took aim at them, quickly putting herself in front of the still injured Daryl.

"Daryl?" Rick asked, surprised by the man's appearance and the young woman in front of him.

"That's the third time you pointed that thing at my head." He growled, delirious and pissed. "You gonna pull the fucking trigger, or what?"

The men seemed to relax but only marginally with her still aiming at them. Daryl noticed and put a hand on her bicep, lowering her arm and in turn the gun. She replaced it in her holster on her hip.

"Gotta new friend?" Rick teased lightly when a shot ripped through the air.

They checked themselves quickly for injury, but it wasn't any of the men that had been hit. The young woman that had brought Daryl back from the woods spun and hit the ground hard in an unmoving lump.

"No!" Rick yelled, telling whoever was there to stop shooting.

"God damn it! Who's shootin'?" Daryl demanded angrily, falling at the stranger's side to examine the damage done.

The young woman lay dazed, moving slowly but unsurely. She looked like she didn't have control over her limbs. She groaned softly, feeling fire echo through her body.

"Hey." Daryl snapped, tapping her cheeks and checking the wound. "Hey, girl, wake up."

She didn't and instead slipped back into sleep.

"Shit. Someone get her, I can't lift shit right now." He demanded.

Rick nodded and lifted the stranger into his arms, ignoring the pieces she wore that were in his way. They all began to move quickly towards the house as Andrea and Dale ran for them to see what had happened.

"Oh my god! Did I kill anyone?"

"No." Daryl snapped. "But damn near. The fuck were you thinking?"

"Hey!" she snapped back. "I thought there was a Walker."

"And we told you not to fire." Rick spat angrily, still cradling the young woman while Daryl followed closely, holding his side.

"Who is she?" Dale asked, noticing the woman wasn't one of theirs.

"Came across her in the woods. Saved my life." Daryl admitted as they met Hershel at the fence line.

The elder man immediately told everyone what to do and what he was going to need.

Daryl laid on his side in the bed, pointing out where he'd found Sofia's doll in the woods. They were excited about it until the conversation immediately shifted to the obvious issue laying in another bed in the house.

"So," Rick began as he rolled his map up. "Who's the woman?"

"Don't know." Daryl shrugged as best he could from his position. "She found me at the bottom of a cliff when that damn horse threw me. Killed a Walker before it got me and wrapped me up. Helped bring me here."

"Why?" Shane asked, not bothering to hide his skepticism.

"How the hell am I supposed to know? Why don't you ask her after she wakes up from the bullet your girlfriend put in her head."

The two were ready to throw insults at one another, but they didn't. Still it didn't stop Shane from mouthing off.

"Well no one just randomly fuckin' helps someone. She's probably here to steal our shit and you led her right to us you dumb son of a bitch."

"You wanna start something with me asshole, that's fine." Daryl bellowed, pushing himself off the bed and wincing when he had, but he refused to back down.

"Enough, both of you. Now this is my house and you will respect it, or get the hell out." Hershel interrupted in his deep, commanding voice. "You hear me?"

The two men didn't respond but met his eyes letting Hershel know they'd heard him.

"Shane, go on. We need to let Hershel help Daryl." Rick said, willing to separate everyone from the volatile situation.

The two left the room, Shane eying the man on the bed before disappearing into the hallway. He didn't feel like he had to apologize for what he'd said and he probably wouldn't. Daryl relaxed, lying back on the bed as Hershel told him to, the old man examining the young one's injuries again.

Minutes ticked by before Daryl asked the question that had been bothering him since Rick and Shane left.

"She gonna be okay?"

"Who?" Hershel asked, tightening the end of the suture.

Daryl glanced over his shoulder catching the old man's eyes. Hershel nodded to himself, continuing on with his work.

"She'll be fine. She's just unconscious for now, but I'm gonna have a look at her in a minute."

Daryl nodded and didn't speak further on the subject. He tried to make himself comfortable and went back to thinking about the young woman that had helped him only to be shot in the head for it.

***!***

Someone was touching her head, rocking it from side to side gently as something cold touched an area that hurt. She winced and awoke with a start, shoving herself up into a sitting position in the bed.

An old man she never saw and a young blond woman were in the room with her. She was confused and they could tell. He was sitting on the bed beside her, a bed she shouldn't have been in while the blond girl stood just behind him smiling as kindly as she could.

"Calm down now," he told her easily. "You've been hurt. I'm just trying to stitch you up."

Her brows pulled together, her eyes darting around the room.

"Where am I?"

"My home." He said, dipping the cloth he'd been using to clean her wound in the bowl of water again and wringing it out. "You were brought here after being shot."

Her head snapped to him. It didn't look like she believed him. She didn't remember being shot.

"What's your name?" Hershel asked, acting as though he were completely at ease with everything that was happening.

"Chris." She said softly, holding still this time as he dabbed at her injury. "Who are you?"

"Hershel. And that's my daughter Beth."

He spoke, not like he was annoyed with her necessarily, but like he was irritated with everything happening and like with Daryl's reaction to her, Chris understood.

The way the world was changed people for the worst. It made people skeptical, suspicious and distrustful of everyone they'd come across. It would break your heart if you thought about it, but this world did turn people cynical.

"Thank you." Chris said after a few moments of silence.

Hershel looked to her but kept working to stitch the numbed wound. He saw the sincerity reflecting back at him and it forced him to nod.

"You may want to get your things together fairly quickly when I'm done here." He told her, unwilling to have more people in his house he didn't know and honestly didn't trust. "You can stay the night, but I'll need you to leave in the morning."

"I understand." She answered quietly.

She didn't like the thought of being out on her own again when there were this many people living together, but she didn't trust groups anymore. She couldn't after last time.

"Is uh, is the guy I brought back here,"

"Daryl."

"Yeah, is he okay?"

Hershel nodded, tying off the stitch in her head.

"He's fine. A bit worse for the wear, but fine."

"Do you think I could get my shirt and scarf back?" she asked sheepishly with a bit of a smile.

"I was wondering where those came from." He said with a hint of a smile. "They got some blood on 'em. They're getting washed, but you'll get 'em back."

"Thank you." She said again.

That was the end of the conversation. Hershel finished his task and wrapped the wound, telling her she was free to move around, but she might want to be mindful of it. If she got dizzy, she needed to sit and Chris told him she would. There was only one place she wanted to go though, being as she didn't know where she was, and she would when the room stopped spinning.

About an hour later, a woman she hadn't seen before knocked on the open door and smiled to Chris. The young woman smiled back kindly and sat up in the bed, but didn't know what she was expected to do, even less so when the woman brought her food.

"Hi." She greeted with a plate and cup of water in her hand. "I thought you might be hungry."

"Thank you." Chris said unsurely.

"I'm Carol, by the way." The woman replied, setting down the food on the bedside table.

"Chris."

Carol nodded, still trying to force pleasantries with the stranger before saying what she'd come to say.

"Thank you." Carol said. "For bringing Daryl back."

Chris nodded again with the best smile she could manage.

"Sure."

Carol turned and was ready to leave the young woman alone when Chris spoke up.

"Uh Carol," she said quickly, catching her attention before she left. "You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you? I just want to make sure he's okay."

She smiled and nodded.

"He's next door." She replied, pointing to the right of Chris's door.

And with that the older woman left Chris to herself.

Chris smelled the food and quickly ate it. She hadn't had a good meal in months though it might as well have been years. She ate almost too fast for her own good, nearly expelling everything she'd swallowed. Chris had choked a bit too, but the water helped dislodged the half chewed food.

With her stomach filled more than it probably would be in a while, Chris polished off the water and made her way to the room next door. She wanted to make sure the guy she'd been shot for was actually taken care of and the two of them hadn't stumbled across an unfriendly camp. Despite the medical care offered, she was still distrustful of everyone.

The door beside her was cracked, not closed completely and the light within made her think he was possibly still awake. Gently Chris tapped on the wooden surface. She heard shuffling within almost immediately before the offering to enter. She pushed the door open hesitantly.

Daryl looked surprised to see her. Chris smiled at the young man with the blankets pulled up high on his chest.

"What's wrong? You see me topless, but I don't get the same luxury?" she teased causing the man to scoff and shake his head. He relaxed but only slightly. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." He answered, watching her sit beside him on the bed. She raised a brow to the man. "Painkillers."

She nodded her understanding, the smile remaining. Daryl's eyes fell to her and the stark white bandage wrapped around her head. He felt bad for it even though he wasn't the one that shot her.

"You?" he asked after a moment.

She turned back to him and breathed deep before sighing.

"Fine." She answered with a shrug. "I feel a bit bad that your friend is such a shitty shot."

This time Daryl laughed about as well as he could before groaning from the pain in his side. Chris kept her smile.

"Feel better, okay? I'd hate to have gone through all that just to have you die now."

He raised a brow to her.

"It's harder than that to kill a Dixon." He replied smugly.

"Thought your name was Daryl?"

"It is." He said, wondering who had said his name before to the young woman he still didn't know.

"Christiana." She introduced, holding out her hand to the man. "Chris."

Daryl took her hand and shook it, eying the young woman for the 'proper introduction' she was giving, but Chris didn't care.

"Well, take care of yourself. I'm leaving in the morning." Chris said after a moment or two.

She stood and made her way for the door.

"Why'd you do it?" Daryl blurted before she could leave causing Chris to turn and stare at him curiously. "Save me like that. Why'd you do it?"

Chris paused and thought about the reason behind her actions. She shrugged after a moment.

"I don't really know to be honest with you." She answered, forcing Daryl's stomach to drop. "Ever since all this happened, every person I've come across has been in it for themselves. I guess I didn't want to be like that. I didn't want to be one of those people who just turns their back on someone when they could've helped them. Besides," she smiled slyly to the man in the bed. "There aren't too many of us out there anymore. We humans need to look out for our own."

With a light wave, Chris closed the door behind her and left the man to himself. Later that night, she was given a place to sleep within the walls of the home and did so instantly. Chris couldn't remember the last time she'd fallen asleep so quickly and stayed that way without waking up every time she heard a branch break or a bird call.

~~~~!~~~~


	2. Chapter 2

**_This ones a bit shorter than the first. Let me know what you think! Enjoy!_**

**Chapter 2**

_Screaming. God awful screaming filled her ears. Groaning. Breaking glass. Shots fired in the distance, new rounds being racked into the chamber. They're everywhere and coming closer. Rotting flesh filled the air. More and more. No matter where they looked, those things kept coming._

_Eyes. She remembered his eyes as she shoved him into the waiting arms of the monsters threatening to kill them both. More screaming. Calls for help. _

_Silence._

Chris awoke late in the morning with a start. She shot out of bed, sweating. Her eyes darted around the unfamiliar room, still hearing the screaming in the back of her mind when she noticed the time. She hadn't meant to sleep so, but she was indoors for the first time since the world ended and her body took full advantage of not sleeping in trees.

When she stood, Chris stretched her back and heard it pop like always. She bit back the groan and began to move through the house, trying to find her things as well as the man who'd helped her to thank him and his family again for their kindness.

It took her searching through the house to find the young blond that was there. She thanked Beth again for her hospitality and kindness and asked where her father was. Chris was led to the generators and found the older man tending to them.

"Sleep well?" he asked, knowing she had.

"Yes sir." Chris nodded. "I wanted to thank you again for everything you've done. It's been a long time since I've come across anyone even remotely kind."

He smiled shortly and nodded, still tending to his work without really making eye contact with her.

"Well, I was here to do it." He replied, sounding as though it were more an obligation than anything else.

Chris ignored the feeling the cold words brought and again chalked it up to the end of the world.

"Thank you just the same." She said. "Uh, you wouldn't happen to know where my things are, would you?"

"Rick took 'em. I don't allow guns and the like in my house, so they took your stuff to hold onto." He informed, turning to face her this time and noticed she still had the bandage on her head. "You can take that off now; pull the stitches out in about a week or two."

She nodded to the man and thanked him again. Chris began to unravel her head as she approached the camp on the other side of the yard. She wasn't entirely sure who the hell Rick was, but assumed someone would be able to tell her where she could get her weapons.

As she approached the camp, Chris noticed people she hadn't really seen before going about their things. Of everyone, she only knew two by name and she didn't see either of them. She did recognize a few, two of the men standing there being the ones that had charged her and Daryl. One of them must have been Rick.

She moved closer tentatively, the group arguing about something involving the young boy. Evidently he wanted to learn how to shoot but his mother didn't want it to happen. Chris tried to stay back as far as she could, but she didn't go unnoticed for long. While the one with the shaved head spouted something about agreeing with someone named Carl, Chris was no longer invisible.

They silenced themselves quickly when they noticed that not only was someone else there, but it was someone they didn't know.

"Yeah?" Shane asked shortly.

Chris cocked a brow to the man, not above showing her irritation with how rude he was being.

"Are you Rick?" she asked, still annoyed.

Shane scoffed while Rick stepped forward.

"That's me." He replied. "And you are?"

"Chris." She shook his offered hand.

"Thanks for bringing Daryl back." He said, glancing to the stitches along side her forehead. "And sorry about that."

Chris smiled as best she could.

"No worries." She told him, shifting for a moment. "Hershel said you had my stuff?"

"You're leaving already?"

Chris was a little shocked he seemed surprised by her departure but slowly nodded.

"Yeah. Hershel made it pretty clear he's worried about strangers and I don't really blame him. Besides, I've imposed on you guys enough. I should just leave."

"You seem kind of ready to be gettin' gone when most people'd be beggin' to stay with a group." Shane said, stepping forward with his arms crossed over his chest.

Chris tried not to show how much he rubbed her the wrong way, but it was difficult.

"Look, you guys seem nice enough, but my experience with groups hasn't been all that great so I try not to push my luck with them." She replied honestly, turning her attention back to the man she'd been speaking to previously. "My stuff?"

"Right." Rick nodded. "It's just over here."

He led the way and pointed to her things leaning against a tree before telling her he had to get back to his friends to finish their discussion. Chris went about inspecting her things, making sure everything was accounted for down to the bullet.

"Hey," someone called as Chris laced her baseball bat around her shoulder. She turned and looked around for the source of the voice, but saw nothing until someone patted the inside of a tent window. "Come here."

She recognized the voice and raised a brow as she walked to the tent to find Daryl lying on a cot. He eyed her.

"You headin' out?" he asked, twirling his arrow through his fingertips as he stared at the young woman.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I think it might be time for me to get out of everyone's hair."

He nodded in response, but didn't really say anything else. His eyes moved along the young woman. As far as women went, she wasn't bad looking and he honestly kind of liked the thought of evening out the numbers a bit, but it wasn't his call to invite someone else into the fold and honestly, new people put everyone's nerves on end.

Chris had thought about the same thing too. As much as she wanted to be part of a group again, a family, she wasn't about to make herself a place there when there wasn't one to be had. She truly, truly wanted to remain, especially considering this was the first time she had been around people in weeks, but again it wasn't her place. Besides, she was kind of developing a thing for Daryl. Aside from him being unable to take care of himself as far as she knew, he was kind of hot.

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips at the thought, her eyes falling to the ground. Daryl stared at the young woman laughing at something that wasn't said out loud when she met his gaze again.

"It was nice meeting you Daryl Dixon." Chris said, turning and leaving the tent and making her way back to her things.

He was left with his mouth hanging a bit slack, his brow raised at the woman that came and went so easily. It was like she was used to it, disappearing before anyone could think to ask her. Not a bad talent to have maybe, but it made him wonder if there wasn't something wrong with her. Maybe she was crazy, like being around people made her skittish or something. He didn't know, but he wouldn't have minded finding out. Crazy girls can be kinda fun.

Slowly Daryl's eyes moved back out the window and watched as the young woman go about her business. It gave him time to lurk and leer, the two things he excelled at but had no time to practice anymore.

Chris went back to arming herself, trying to ignore the eyes she felt on her back when she heard someone walking closer. She glanced over her shoulder as she strapped her knife to her thigh and saw a blond woman walking forward somberly.

"Hi." She greeted unsurely.

"Hello." Chris replied in the same tone, her actions slowing when confronted by someone she didn't know.

"I uh… I'm sorry." She nearly blurted, meeting Chris's confused eyes. "For shooting you."

Understanding washed over the stranger's features and she nodded, going back to her task.

"Don't worry about it." Chris replied, grabbing her gun and checking to see if it was loaded. "Next time though," she looked up at the blond with a grin. "Take into account the wind."

She let a weak laugh leave her lips and nodded, offering her hand.

"Andrea."

"Chris." She said, shaking the young woman's hand.

But the introduction was the last thing either of them said to one another. With a partial wave, Andrea went back to getting ready to leave for the day. Chris again went back to her task and after finally strapping on the last bit of artillery she owned, she stood. Her eyes darted to the tent to see the sun reflecting off the white screen. She couldn't tell if Daryl was looking at her, but smiled regardless and turned.

As she walked back towards the woods, Chris caught sight of the woman that had brought her food the night before. She felt the need to tell her thank you before leaving the camp entirely so Chris made her way to the woman quickly.

"Carol?"

The woman turned and smiled when she saw Chris.

"Chris right?"

"Yeah," Chris smiled. "Look, thanks for bringing me some food last night."

"It was no problem." She smiled kindly. "You heading out?"

"Yeah, uh, can you tell Daryl something for me? I kind of forgot to say something earlier."

"Sure," she shrugged.

"About the little girl that's in the woods," she said, Carol's face falling immediately at the mention of her daughter. "Tell him I'll keep my eyes open for her, okay?"

"How do you know about my daughter?" she asked almost desperately.

Chris twitched slightly. She hadn't heard the young girl's name or who she was related to, only that she was lost in the woods.

"Daryl." She answered. "He said he couldn't come back to camp because he was looking for a little girl."

A weak smile touched the other woman's face at the thought.

"She's your daughter?" Chris finally asked after a minute of silence.

Carol snapped to attention and nodded, still harboring her sweet smile at the thought of Daryl wanting to find Sofia so much.

"Yeah, my Sofia. She's only twelve."

Chris's brows came together sadly for the mother missing her daughter. She almost felt her eyes begin to burn at the thought, but shook the feeling away before she could cry.

"I have enough supplies for a few days to spare before I need to get moving again." Chris said, having to offer something to the woman out of need to make their situation in the apocalypse all the easier. "I'll camp out in the woods for the next three days and see if I can find her. If I do, I'll bring her back here, okay?"

"You'd do that for me?" Carol asked, stunned by the stranger's offer.

Chris smiled weakly and nodded. She'd never had family to look out for her so the thought was endearing and merited help.

"Sure." She said sweetly. "Like I told Daryl, we humans need to look out for each other."

Without knowing why, Carol lunged forward and hugged the young woman tightly. Chris was unprepared for the action, but returned it regardless. She smiled to herself and hugged Carol as tightly as she was being held before the woman released her and stepped back.

"Thank you." She said with grateful tears in her eyes.

Chris nodded and set off towards the woods to gather the supplies she'd left tied high in a tree to keep both human and inhuman from finding it.


End file.
